‘Well, ma’am, not exactly – though this is connected to your offer, albeit in an oblique way.’

‘Oblique? Should we be doing our heads in with words like “oblique” on a Sunday evening?’

In all the time he’d known the former ACC of Sussex, he’d found it hard to tell when she was being nice, indeed humorous, or just plain sarcastic.

‘I’ll skip the oblique and come straight to the point, ma’am.’

He summarized what Guy Batchelor had told him earlier, much of it seemingly confirmed by the notes in the red book.

She was silent for so long after he had finished that he began to wonder if they’d been cut off. Then, the tone of her voice very different, serious and to the point, she said, ‘Roy, how certain are you this former officer has told you the truth?’

‘One hundred per cent,’ he said, without hesitation.

‘Even though he’s serving time in prison?’

‘He’s not looking to get anything out of this personally, ma’am.’

‘So why has he given this to you?’

‘Because he hates corrupt coppers, even though he is one – perhaps he doesn’t see that – and he wanted to repay me for standing up for him at his trial with a character reference.’

‘Always loyal to your team, aren’t you?’

‘It wasn’t loyalty, ma’am – his appalling behaviour was out of character and the court needed to hear that.’

That seemed to satisfy her. ‘OK, Roy. Don’t discuss this with any of your colleagues in Sussex. Can you scan and send me the contents of the notebook as soon as possible?’

‘I can do it when I get home – half an hour.’

‘Good. What I’ll do is place this in the hands of the Met Anti-Corruption Unit.’ She paused. ‘Roy, I don’t need to tell you this is a very delicate scenario – it needs to be handled both carefully and highly confidentially.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘I will also personally brief the Chief Constable of Sussex and the Police and Crime Commissioner – they need to be made aware. I don’t need you to do anything else at this stage.’

‘Understood, ma’am.’

Ending the call, Roy sat for some minutes feeling an almost overwhelming sense of calm. As if the monkey that had been on his back for longer than he could remember had suddenly been prised away. He looked forward to getting home and, hopefully with the rain some hours away, firing up the barbecue before it got too dark.

6

Sunday 1 September

Niall Paternoster pocketed his phone and stood by their car, looking all around, puzzled. Just where on earth was she? No way would Eden have gone to McDonald’s, she loathed it. He often had a Big Mac when he was out on the road, and had long stopped telling her except when he deliberately wanted to hack her off, because he would always get a lecture. And she couldn’t accept their vegetarian stuff was any good.

Had she gone to M&S? She liked their food halls and still bought stuff there even though, with his reduced income, he felt they couldn’t afford their prices any more – not until they were back on their feet, at least. OK, fine, she was still earning decent money, thank God. But much of it went to paying the mortgage and the rest of the bills.